


right from under

by finkpishnets



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: 5 Times, Christmas, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: Five conversations Robert has with a Dingle about Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miss_whimsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_whimsy/gifts).



> i hope this meets your prompts the way you'd hoped, dear giftee. happy holidays!

 

 

**_Chas._ **

 

Robert’s about twenty minutes from home when Chas calls.

“Alright, love?” she says, which is enough to set alarm bells ringing on its own. “Where abouts are you?”

“Not far,” he says, “just about to turn off the duel carriageway.”

“Oh, brill,” Chas says, “I’m at the outlet shopping thingy, come meet me.”

There’s nothing Robert wants to do _less_ than meet his future mother-in-law at the shops after a long day of dealing with grumpy clients, not when all he can think of is slipping into a pair of jeans and curling up next to Aaron with a pint, but he’s also not daft enough to say no, which means five minutes later he’s fighting with a people-carrier over the parking spot nearest the pay and display. 

The only coffee shop is upstairs in M&S, so Robert beelines through the middle-aged crowds for the escalator and takes the chance provided by a dropped dummy to slip in front of the mum and two kids who’re headed in the same direction. There’s already a queue for the tills, and Robert can’t see Chas yet so he takes his place with a sigh, finally ordering a green tea and an Americana and staring blankly at the girl when she asks him if he has a Sparks card.

There’s a table for two near the back of the room, and Robert uses every bit of service experience he remembers to get there before the nattering women with about thirty bags between them, putting his tray down with an apologetic shrug. He reads a couple of emails on his phone while he waits, and Chas appears a few minutes later, red-cheeked and out of breath, a handful of canvas shopping bags balanced in the join of her elbow.

“Ah, sorry, sorry,” she says. “Oh, you got the drinks in! Brilliant.”

“Yeah,” Robert says, shuffling forward in his seat and subconsciously straightening his spine. “Hope it’s okay.”

Chas shakes off her gloves and scarf and stacks her bags against the window with the expertise of someone who knows that luck’s always better than strategy before wrapping her hands around her mug with a happy sigh.

“It’s still a week ’til Christmas,” she says. “I didn’t think it’d be this mental.”

Most of Robert’s Christmas shopping’s been done online, the same way he’s done it every year since Amazon became a _thing_ , mostly because the thought of traipsing ‘round the shops to the same looped playlist and parents with desperation in their eyes ranks pretty high on his list of nightmare material.

“Get everything you needed?” he asks, falling to polite small talk. Chas shoots him a look that says she can see exactly how uncomfortable he is and doesn’t care one whit.

“Well, Belle’s birthday present’s sorted, and I got Liv some hair stuff from Boots and a New Look voucher so she can pick some things out the next time her and Gabby go shopping. Oh, and I did one of them three for one deals on smellies, so that’s the girls done, too.”

Robert nods along like he’s interested, and it’s weird because he actually _is_ a bit. Christmas with the Whites was always a test in politeness; Lawrence would give him the standard bottle of something, usually re-gifted from a generous client, Lachlan wouldn’t bother, and Chrissie would get him one big thing that Robert had been hinting about long enough to expect it. All very predictable and smart, under the tree in professional wrapping.

There’s already a box of misshaped presents under his and Aaron’s bed they’ve been steadily collecting when they think about it, and Aaron had queued up for thirty minutes last weekend to get some of them wrapped by the volunteers in the charity shop in town. The paper they’ve got was on sale in Tesco but Robert hadn’t been able to find enough of one type when he’d popped in after work so glittery reindeer are hanging out with holly boughs and the Star Wars one he hadn’t been able to resist. It’s about as far from professional as you can get, and Robert can’t remember the last time he felt so Christmassy.

“They’ve got some nice jumpers here,” Chas says, sipping at her tea, and Robert raises an amused eyebrow.

“Are you hinting?” he says, and already thinks he’ll stretch to another present for Chas if there’s something she really wants. They can always tell her it’s from Liv.

“Don’t be daft,” she says. “I meant for our Aaron. If you weren’t sure what to get him, I mean.”

She’s looking at him pointedly, and Robert’s not sure if he’s more insulted that she thinks he hasn’t got Aaron’s present yet or that he’d buy him _jumpers_ of all things. Not that Aaron doesn’t need some new ones; Robert’s managed to weed out the worst of them over the last few months but even he’s only able to do so much, and, _really_ , if he was going to buy Aaron jumpers, he likes to think he’d be able to stretch to John Lewis at least.

“Nah,” he says. “You’re all right.”

Chas’ lips pull into a curious smile, and Robert thinks he might just have won this round.

 

 

**_Belle._ **

 

Tracy and David are shouting something about Brussels sprouts at each other across the shop, and Robert taps his foot and holds out a ten pound note pointedly until Tracy notices and shrugs a half-hearted apology. He’s only popped in for movie snacks; Aaron had shrugged a “whatever” and Liv had given him a list as long as his arm, and he thinks he’s found a compromise somewhere between the two. Crisps, popcorn, and a couple of reduced advent calendars because chocolate’s chocolate and having to open all the little doors will annoy Aaron to no end.

He’s tucking everything under his arm because he can never remember to bring a stupid bag when the door chimes and Belle walks in, rubbing at her arms against the cold.

“All right?” she says. “Just the person I was looking for!”

Robert turns to look at Tracy before realising she’s talking to him.

“Uh,” he says, “what’s up?”

“Oh,” Belle says, “no, it’s nothing, I just wanted your advice.”

Robert’s used to not being a total pariah around the village these days; Aaron’s no angel but he’s loved, and the association’s taken a lot of the sting out of people’s memories. He’s more likely to get a nod hello then a suspicious glare walking down the street, and that’s better than he’s had since he was a kid so he’s not going to knock it. Still, he can honestly say that, besides his sister and the odd too-serious conversation with Chas, no one asks for his advice all that often.

“Sure,” he says, intrigued.

Belle smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and Robert understands why the Dingles are so fiercely protective of her. She’s strong — that family all are, thank God — but she’s still a kid despite her experiences. There’s a lot of Vic about her, in her optimism and her passion, and it’s not the first time he’s thought it.

(Wandering the streets of Hotten at two a.m., drinking stale coffee from a thermos, and hoping every sleeping bag was Belle. Aaron’s expression drained and hopeless. Robert’s expensive coat keeping back the chill, refusing to think about being nineteen and not so lucky.)

“I was thinking about getting Liv some makeup for Christmas,” she says. “Some nice-ish stuff, but just, like, mascara, blush, lip gloss. The basics.”

“Okay?” Robert says, suddenly lost. He’s not sure why she’d be asking his opinion on make-up unless she thinks he knows about brand stuff from his time with Chrissie, or someone’s been spreading even more creative rumours about his past than usual.

Belle huffs out a laugh, tugging at the bottom of her glove. “Well, I guess first, is that all right? I know some people are funny about that stuff. And do you think she’ll like it? I just thought, you know, she’s fourteen. That’s about when most girls start wearing it, and since her mum’s not around…” She pauses, waving her hand to show she’s stating a fact not a judgement. “Also, I love Chas, but I’m not sure she’s the best person to be giving make-up advice to a kid.” 

She shoots Robert a conspiratorial look, and Robert can’t help but laugh.

“Fair point,” he says, “but don’t ever tell her I said that.”

“So is that a yes?” Belle asks with a smile, and, well—

Robert’s not sure he has any right to answer that. He’s not even Liv’s brother-in- _law_ yet let alone anything else, and besides, he’s not sure if Liv’ll even _like_ make-up, not when she dresses like she’s trying to give the village heart palpitations about the ghosts of Aarons past. She has started playing around more with her hair, though, asking Chas or Charity to help her plait it in different ways and sneaking hairspray into the weekly shop, so maybe that means—

“Yeah,” he says before he can second guess himself. “I mean, I don’t know if she’ll like the make-up, but I think she’d like you spending time showing her how best to use it.”

Belle blinks at him before her whole face lights up.

“Yeah,” she says. “You know, you’re gonna be good at this.”

“Good at what?” Robert asks, frowning.

“Parenting,” she says, and the familiar Dingle mischief glitters in her eyes. “That answer was ace.”

Robert’s so thrown he doesn’t respond when she leaves, waving goodbye. 

“Did you need anything else?” Tracy asks, sounding far too amused.

Robert ignores her.

It’s probably best to have life-changing epiphany breakdowns in the comfort of your own home anyway.

 

 

**_Charity._ **

 

Robert’s been involved in more than one of Charity’s schemes and heard stories about enough others to fill a library, so when she pushes a heavy box into his arms and says, “Here, hold this,” he’s tempted to immediately drop it and wipe down his fingerprints.

“What—” he starts before she hushes him, eyes darting to the door.

Robert’s only come back to grab Liv’s sketchbook. They’d been planning on going out for dinner but Liv’s in a mood and Aaron’s knackered, and it’s safer for all involved if they just order too many chips and fall asleep in the corner of the pub. When Aaron and Liv had started talking about The Mill, though, Robert had volunteered to get Liv’s designs from the back room instead of splitting up their slow, matching smiles.

“Right,” Charity says, straightening up with another, smaller box balanced in the crook of her arm. “Quick.”

“It’s best if I don’t ask, isn’t it?” Robert says, following her ‘round the back. “Does ignorance still count as a valid defence?”

“Oh please,” Charity says, “any jury’d take one look at you and know you’re as crooked as they come.” 

Her car’s parked around the corner, and Charity heads there as quickly as she can, opening the boot and sliding her box in before kicking Robert in the shin as emphasis to do the same. The box clinks as he puts it down, and Robert frowns.   


“Are you seriously stealing booze?” he says. “You own half a bloody pub.”

“Pshh,” Charity says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not _stealing_ it, I’m _saving_ it.”

“Saving it for yourself, more like,” Robert says, and Charity shuts the boot and punches his arm companionably.

“Nope,” she says. “Not _just_ for myself, anyway. See, this time of year, everyone thinks it’s festive to pop into the pub. Then they order the good stuff, and Chas feels like she has to give it to them, and then it’s Christmas and too late to order more and the lot of us are left with nothing but cheap plonk.”

“Surely you wouldn’t notice it was cheap plonk by about, oh, ten o’clock Christmas morning?” Robert says. Charity punches him again, harder this time.

“Ohhh,” she says, “you judge all you want, Robert Sugden, but you and everyone else’ll be thanking me when you don’t have to play charades sober.”

Robert can’t really protest that.

“When you say ‘good stuff’—?” he says, eyeing the car, and Charity laughs.

“There you go!” she says. “We’ll make a Dingle of you yet.”

Robert wants to say “not a chance” but Charity’s got a glint in her eye that says she wouldn’t believe it even if he tried, and Robert’s always thought of himself as a good liar, but he’s not that good.

Not enough to deny how much he sort of, maybe, possibly wants it to be true, and not just for Aaron’s sake.

“So where are you stashing it?” he says, giving in, and Charity’s answering smile is surprisingly soft.

“ _Now_ you’re getting it,” she says, and, well.

Yeah.

Maybe he is.

 

 

**_Lisa._ **

 

Robert’s exhausted. Aaron’s on a scrap run, the last one of the year, and won’t be back until the early hours of the morning, Liv’s at a mates house, and Chas is holed up behind the bar, tending to the sudden crush of holiday patrons that Charity had predicted to a T. 

He’d stopped by Vic’s earlier and run into Diane at the gate, the three of them humming and hawing about Christmas plans and when to exchange gifts. It’d been fine, it _had_ , except Diane’s still angry and Vic’s still distant, and Robert still can’t forget being called a disappointment for the nth time in his life. Vic’s got Adam now and the Bartons, and with Ashley getting worse, Diane’s sticking to Doug’s side like glue, offering whatever support she can. Robert’s sure it doesn’t work like this for lots of people, that the good thing about becoming a part of a new family is extending your existing one, but maybe not.

He’s got Aaron and Liv though, so it’s okay. He can wait. He just wishes it didn’t make him feel like it’s his fault they’ve ended up here.

“You all right, love?” Lisa asks, interrupting his thoughts, holding onto the back of the opposite chair and giving him a sympathetic smile. She’s wearing a wool jumper covered in snowflakes and watching him with gentle eyes, and Robert has the overwhelming urge to hug her and not let go for a while.

He tightens his fingers around his pint glass and smiles back instead. “Yeah,” he says. “You?”

“Oh, I’m always fine,” she says. “Or I will be when the blooming butcher delivers the turkey.”

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, nodding like he knows anything about it. As a kid that was his dad’s domain, as a young adult he’d been lucky if he got a roast at all, and in the last few years Lawrence had had his ordered in from Harrods food hall. Lisa doesn’t call him out on it, though.

“I just wanted to check what time you’ll be over on Saturday and whether you or Liv have any allergies I should know about?” Lisa says. “I’d ask Aaron but, bless that boy, he can’t give you more than a shrug for anything.”

Robert smiles, and it feels more real now, on safer ground. He sometimes wonders how obvious it is, his love for Aaron. Whether everyone can see it just by looking at him. It’s a nice thought.

“No allergies,” he says, “and I’m not sure. I think we were planning on doing stockings here and then heading ‘round, so probably about one-ish?”

Lisa nods happily. “Excellent,” she says. “Dinner’s usually served about three so that’ll give you plenty of time to get merry with the rest of us.”

“I think Charity’s seeing to that,” Robert says, and Lisa laughs.

“Aye,” she says, “that girl takes her booze very seriously.”

“Do you want us to bring anything?” Robert offers, and Lisa presses a grateful hand to his arm, all the while shaking her head.

“Don’t be daft,” she says. “It’s your first Dingle Christmas! No, you just bring yourself and those soft-hearted hooligans of yours.”

Robert laughs. “That I can definitely do.”

Lisa gives him a wink and goes to turns away but pauses.

“I just want to say, love, I’m really pleased you’re becoming a part of the clan. You make our Aaron happier than I think I’ve ever seen him and that means more than any of us could ever say.”

Robert’s throat feels tight and his pint wobbles a little in his hand, threatening to spill.

“Oh,” he says. “Thank you.”

Lisa gives him another gentle smile, the sort Robert’s not seen directed at him for too many years, and takes her leave, and Robert watches her go with fond nostalgia and present warmth.

His phone buzzes, _‘No traffic. Back by 12.’_

When he smiles, he’s sure the whole world can tell how in love he is.

 

 

**_Aaron._ **

 

Robert wakes to the sound of Noah’s excited cries followed by Charity’s louder shushing, Liv’s door opening not long after.

Next to him, Aaron groans, rolling over so one of his arm’s under his pillow, face buried in Robert’s neck.

“S’too early,” he says. “Make them shut up.”

“It’s Christmas,” Robert says around a yawn. “Even I’m not that good.”

Aaron’s t-shirt’s pulled low over his collarbone and his thigh’s slotted between Robert’s, warm and comfortable and inviting. Robert leans in and drops a kiss to the curve of his neck, fingers finding Aarons hip and tugging him closer as Aaron huffs out a laugh.

“If you think we have time for that,” Aaron says, “you’re seriously underestimating how crazy Christmas morning gets with kids around.”

There are more voices now — Chas and Liv and the clattering that says someone’s making tea — and Robert knows Aaron’s right and they’ll have to go down soon before the hoards decide to come knocking, but he’s not ready to move just yet.

“Come here,” he says, turning Aaron’s chin and kissing him. Both of them need to brush their teeth, and now he’s awake Robert’s aware of how cold it is outside the duvet, but he couldn’t care less, not when Aaron’s sighing against his lips and deepening the kiss, eyelashes brushing Robert’s cheek.

“You sure you’re all right about today?” Aaron asks when they part, his temple pressed to Robert’s jaw and the words little more than breath in the space that lies between them.

They both know Robert’s going to say yes — because Robert wants to please Aaron, because plans have already been made, because where else does Robert have to go? — but Robert, at least, is surprised with just how much it’s the truth. 

He’s nervous, sure. The Dingles are a big crowd and he’s on good enough terms with most of them nowadays but that doesn’t mean it’s still not overwhelming. There’ll be a lot of small talk and dancing over past events, and Robert’s sure he’ll hide at least a couple of times to catch his breath, but he’s also sure he’ll drink and eat and laugh and kiss Aaron under mistletoe whilst Aaron complains and the rest of the family laugh. 

He’s sure he’ll be _welcome_ , and that’s…new.

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his cold arm back under the duvet and pressing closer to Aaron for warmth and comfort and just _because_. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Aaron smiles, searching his eyes, and kisses him until Liv shouts that she’ll jump on them if they don’t get up. 

It’s the best Christmas Robert remembers.


End file.
